One Swaying Being

LOVE is not condescension, never
that, nor books, nor any marking

on paper, nor what people say of
each other.  Love is a tree with

branches reaching into eternity,
and roots set deep in eternity,

and no trunk!  Have you seen it?
The mind cannot.  Your desiring

cannot.  The longing you feel for
this love comes from inside you.

When you become the Friend, your
longing will be as the man in the

ocean who holds to a piece of wood.
Eventually wood, man, and

ocean become one swaying being,
Shams Tabriz, the secret of God.

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~ Jelaluddin Rumi (1207-1273)

 

1920s Murder Mystery: Round 2 of Clues

 Second round of clues are here!

Setting and Story 
Round One of Clues

Round 2

Elizabeth: In a fit of anger and grief, Elizabeth wheels on Lacy accusing her to cheating with Robert.  The past few weeks after his return, Robert had been going out without reason and Elizabeth suspected something terrible of her husband, who knows what the war did to his morals.  Lacy says nothing, also shocked and too frightened to tell the truth.

 

Alberto: Al comes to Lacy’s rescue and reveals that Robert had been looking for an escape ever since the war.  He and Robert crossed paths one evening, both of them implicated if Elizabeth found out, and agreed to keep their nights out a secret.  Lacy had been there with them through all of this.  Robert still hasn’t paid the initiation fee yet, and now it looked like he never would.  Al sulked with Lacy after a while both of them whispering together in earnest, a concerned expression written on their faces.

 

Mendobale: Mrs. Mendobale smacks her red lips together and announces that if there should be no party, she might as well go home.  The other group members hold her down and in the high point of the struggle a small bottle of gin rolls out from her handbag.  The group freezes and Mrs. Mendobale faints yet again at the sight.

 

John: John, gathering his wits about him looks at the body of Robert Kingsley lying on the floor.  “Is that what I think it is?” he proclaims loudly in a startled voice.  He points at a shattered wine bottle, the purple juice mixing with the already coagulating pool of blood.  Indeed it is a wine bottle and it has the lipstick stain of a woman’s cherry red lipstick on the rim.

 

Joe: Robert and Joe went back all the way to recruitment.  Although they were from opposite ends of the social hierarchy, they became good friends.  Joe had even lent Robert $5 in the barracks once when Elizabeth had spent up her weekly allowance on new gloves.  He is upset that Robert refuses to pay him back now.  Their argument escalated quickly and Joe almost felt like throwing Robert off the balcony.

 

Lacy: Lacy is still shaken from being accused of cheating with Robert and remains sullen throughout the conversing.  She suddenly stands up at one point and searches behind the trash can in the lobby.  After she returns, she whispers something to Al and both of them fall silent.

1920s Murder Mystery: Characters

I thought it might be helpful to have a list of characters as a reference point.  It was an awful lot of fun making up these characters.
(When I played with my friends I filled the role of Sergeant Joseph Jamison.) Have fun!

See here for previous related posts:

Setting and Story

Round One of Clues

 

 Characters

 

Elizabeth Kingsley: Wealthy Conservative

Costume: Elegant ball gown, large fancy hat, classy jewelry

Props: long gloves, handbag

 

Swingin’ Alberto Malone: Gangster/ speakeasy owner

Costume: zoot suit, spats

Props: black gloves, water gun (sans water)

 

Señora Valentina Mendobale: Neighbor 

Costume: classy blouse, classy shoes, classy everything

Props: cat, sunglasses, wallet

 

John Torrio: Factory/ auto mechanic worker

Costume: jeans, checkered button up shirt, hat

Props: bicycle pump, work gloves

 

Sergeant Joseph Jamison: War veteran

Costume: dress slacks, white shirt, military badges

Props: hobo gloves, pocket watch, cardboard box

 

 Miss Lacy “Stardust” Woods: Flapper

Costume: flapper dress, feathered headband, tights

Props: gloves, handbag, bottles

College and Change

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.”

~ Barack Obama

Six days ago I was sitting at home swiveling my desk chair from side to side.

I looked out my window to observe the view I had been used to seeing for 17 years: seven white-washed garage doors all closed against the sun’s glare reflecting up into my room making it severely hot and stuffy, the gray colored roofs blocking the tall cotton trees standing still as statues not even a breeze to make the thick green leaves glimmer, and half a blue sky rising above it all, cloudless and without a hint of giving me a clue about what I should be doing.

Today, today would be another long and arduous day of moving my body from one position to the next and from one pointless activity to the next, doing absolutely nothing.

They send you off with streamers and shouting and clapping.  Telling you how accomplished you are, the teachers, friends, and well-wishers congratulate you, a high school graduate.

Congratulations! But what do you do after the fact? Take a trip to Europe? Hang out with friends, read, swim, pack, read some more? That’s already been accomplished, I had already done everything I wanted to do before leaving.

It was six days until I left for college and there was nothing to do but wait.  Change, they say (whoever “they” are) can be exciting, limitless, freeing, it can be an adventure! But while I’ve found all these aspects of change to be true, it has mostly consisted of waiting.

Was I waiting for the end result of change, or waiting for the change to begin? It’s rather difficult to distinguish between the two.

It was six days until I left for college and I was waiting for the change to begin.

It is now 12 hours until I move onto campus and as I lay here in a cheap bed, at a cheap motel with garish floral bedspreads and peeling wallpaper, this is the moment and the feeling I expected.

Not 10 minutes away from the change I’ve been waiting for all summer, I can’t help but think that nothing could have prepared me for whatever will happen next.

So, whatever does come my way this new school year, I’ll put my faith in God, and I’ll remember that although I’m so far away from home and the people I love, change will come again soon enough, and I’ll be heading off on a new adventure.

Alright!  This ^^ is prelude to a new and exciting time at college.  Posting may take a hit but I’ll try to write as often as I can.  Until next time! 

1920s Murder Mystery: Round 1 of Clues

Here is the first round of clues to the murder mystery game! See the first post about it here!

CLUES

Round 1:

Elizabeth Kingsley: A few days prior, Mrs. Kingsley had taken the car to pick up Robert from the train station. On their way home Elizabeth insisted on driving herself, not willing to give up some freedom. However, she lost control of the wheel over a patch of ice, sending the car spinning into a bank of snow. Neither she nor Robert were injured but the same could not be said for the car. The repairs and expenses caused quite a tiff between the two and it was only up until today that she and Robert were on speaking terms.

Alberto Malone: Robert met Alberto, a free easy-going guy that didn’t seem to mind drawing attention to himself and to other who were around him, while lost in the city once. He had lost his way. Also known as Swingin’ Al, Alberto arrived at the separate invitations of Elizabeth and Robert with the intent of collecting Robert’s initiation fee for joining the speakeasy downtown.

Mrs. Valentina Mendobale: Mrs. Mendobale was feeling lonely that evening and gladly, although stuffily, accepted Elizabeth’s invite. She figured it wasn’t going to be much of a party and decided to bring Mr. Snuffles along too. She never cared for Robert, and figured that this might be the perfect opportunity to expose him to for what he was to his poor wife. If it had to be done that is, there might be something in it for her. Blackmail.

John Torrio: John had been called in by Elizabeth to service her car that morning and begrudgingly drove to the apartment only to be trapped there by the snowstorm. As it the holiday season, John has a full schedule and would rather spend his free time with his family. He had plans to go to another family dinner party that day and is anxiously waiting for the storm to let up a little bit. Robert invited him to the party and arrived at the penthouse with Al, Joe, and Lacy.

Joseph Jamison : As an ex-sergeant in the United States army Joe has successfully lost the pass code to his bank account which holds all of his savings. In the meantime, he resides in a cardboard box which recently has begun to leak a bit with the winter season. He met Robert during the war and the two quickly became fast friends until today when he pulled Robert aside into the dining room to ask for payment on a loan made long ago to which Robert naturally refused. Joe admitted that he has a slight gambling problem. Although illegal, Joe went to a speakeasy one night out of curiosity. He drank a little too much wine and now owes the owner a significant sum of $30.

Lacy Woods: Lacy Woods was born in the quiet suburbs of Illinois. She attended an all-girls Catholic school and was destined to become a nun as predetermined by her parents. However, when the 20s hit, a wave of short dresses, dancing, illegal alcohol, liberal ideas, and parties swept Lacy off her feet. She left home and made her way to the big city where she befriended Alberto Malone. Together they picked up Robert who was seeking an escape from settled life. Renaming herself as “Stardust” for the masses, Lacy is currently training to be a professional Charleston dancer and bartender at the speakeasy downtown. She still doesn’t know who she works for.

Puppies: The Devastation of Cute

Okay so I know this blog deals mainly with the arts but I’m going to pause for a moment to say: We got a puppy!!!

A few days ago I was finishing up some work at the library and compensating to myself that the little amount of work I actually accomplished was pretty good.  My mom was also with me.  We’re tying to spend some time together before I disembark for college.

“Let’s go into the pet store,” she says as we are walking out.

“What?” I’m surprised.  Our dog had just recently died not four moths past and I wasn’t sure I could focus on, or even handle a new puppy.

She was already half-way to the door by then and called back, “come on let’s just take a look.” I sighed and followed her inside.

Once we stepped inside the dogs began to rustle in their cages as did the barking.  I still wasn’t so sure and hung back a bit.  But the moment the lady in the store let us hold the first puppy, I knew there was no hope to fight it.  I gave in and a few days gone by, I’m absolutely in love with our new puppy.

She prances around the room, whimpers with excitement when you come in, and flops and wriggles as she tries to lick your face all over.  I still miss our first dog terribly but Phoebe, our puppy, doesn’t know anything about that, and when she looks at you with those teddy bear eyes you feel, yeah I think I can find love for this one too.

Hopefully next week I’ll find some time away from college to post the regular art topics.  Have you ever dreamed of a walking with a legend?  I have and I’d love to share it with you: A Walk with Van Gogh (I’ll attach a link to this when I get the post up).

Have a splendid week and remember to keep your heart open to new experiences! 🙂

Mnemosyne

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It’s autumn in the country I remember.

How warm a wind blew here about the ways!
And shadows on the hillside lay to slumber
During the long sun-sweetened summer-days.

It’s cold abroad the country I remember.

The swallows veering skimmed the golden grain
At midday with a wing aslant and limber;
And yellow cattle browsed upon the plain.

It’s empty down the country I remember.

I had a sister lovely in my sight:
Her hair was dark, her eyes were very sombre;
We sang together in the woods at night.

It’s lonely in the country I remember.

The babble of our children fills my ears,
And on our hearth I stare the perished ember
To flames that show all starry thro’ my tears.

It’s dark about the country I remember.

There are the mountains where I lived. The path
Is slushed with cattle-tracks and fallen timber,
The stumps are twisted by the tempests’ wrath.

But that I knew these places are my own,
I’d ask how came such wretchedness to cumber
The earth, and I to people it alone.

It rains across the country I remember.

Mnemosyne by Trumbull Stickney 

Definition of Mnemosyne:  the Greek goddess of memory and mother of the Muses by Zeus

1874-1904, American Poet

What do you get out of his poetry, how do you feel, and how can you relate to anything from his poem?